This Is Not My Bed
by SeafoamPurpleCurtains
Summary: America wakes up in bed, but it sure isn't his. And why is everything blue?
1. Cardverse

America felt his senses returning after the night he spent asleep at his desk. As they slowly made their way back into focus, he felt no aches at having slept in an awkward place for such a long time, nor was able to hear his computer's fan working to keep the machine cool. He could not feel his glasses on his face, nor feel them in his hand. What he did feel in is hand - and surrounding his body - were sheets of such a fine quality they gave the illusion of being meant for a king. He could also sense another body in the bed.

America quickly became alert after realizing that yes, there was in fact another body in his bed. He sat upright in the bed, not caring if he woke up the person whose mop of messy blonde hair and bare upper back were the only current things visible. America scanned the bedside table - which, he noted, like much of the rest of the room, was a shade of blue - for any shape resembling his glasses, because for some odd reason his vision was worse than the day before. He picked up the glasses, his vision clearing so that he could make out what his surrounding were. Everything from the ceiling to the curtains was a shade of blue. His bed partner though - who just took in a sharp breath - had rolled over so America could examine his bed buddy's face.

The first thing America noticed was his partner's eyebrows, which was to be expected, as they were one of the most prominent features on his partners' face. The next thing he noticed was the green of his partners eyes, so familiar yet filled with something America had not seen in them, even in his childhood, and he could not put a name on the look. America continued to stare and take in hi partner's face, and with each detail was further stunned. He then realized that they were both naked in the same bed when his partner spoke.

"That was a wonderful evening Alfred."

Of course with that sentence, America's brain had only two functions left: break or play along.

It asked what the hell was wrong with this picture instead.

"Um, England. What are you talking about?"

England took this as a continuation of the night before, and inched his way closer to America.

"I told you last night, _My Darling King_," England had managed to get his lips right by America's ear and enunciated _My Darling King_ with a certain precision that made America unwillingly shiver. "Now that we're married, call me Arthur."

Then America caught the word. _King_. The thing he had broken away from when he became independent.

Then America's brain finally broke.

* * *

**Oh dear...**

**What have I written...**

**Reviews, anon or not, are always accepted.**


	2. Dude that's a desk

When Alfred woke up, he immediately noticed the sharp pain in his back and the magical box of light staring at him. Alfred straightened up, and attempted to crack his back.

"Geez Arthur..." Alfred mumbled to himself.

"I thought we were celebrating last night. Why'd you let me fall asleep at this thing?" Alfred motioned to the desk, which had been acting as his pillow for the night.

If he had expected an answer, none came.

He rose from the chair, then truly became aware of his surroundings. The desk was not his own, his chair had tiny wheels, and there was many colors other than blue surrounding him.

Then he heard a door open far off, and a voice familiar enough to bring a smile to his face.

"America, come along. Time for the meeting."

Alfred swiftly made his way to the voice, knowing which face would be there to greet him.

"Ar-"

"America- go back to your room, and clean yourself up." "Arthur" did not even spare him a glance. Alfred made his way into a room that looked as though it could pass for a place where whomever lived here would keep personal hygiene products. He did what he could, and found nicer looking clothes to wear. When he was done, he made his way back to "Arthur" and kissed him full on the mouth.

He was punched in the face in return.

"What the hell was that Arthur?"

"Arthur" looked at him, his eyes turning from the observing the king to scrutinizing him.

"You're not America, though you do look like him. Don't mistake me for your Arthur, as we are nothing alike. Today at the meeting, be as loud and obnoxious as possible so no one will be able to tell the difference."

Alfred stood where he was for a moment, trying to remember what being loud and obnoxious was like. He then followed the Arthur look-alike into a wagon with no horse to pull it. Alfred then asked what he thought was the most important question.

"What should I address you as, if you do not go by 'Arthur'?"

"England."

Alfred looked again to his companion. The eyebrows were unmistakably Arthur's, but the way England held himself was not, although the differences were far and in between. England held himself as if he had seen to much of the word around him. Arthur held himself as though he wished the ordeal he was dealing with would be over before sundown.

"Is there anything else I should be made aware of, England?"

England took a moment to respond.

"Nothing that I can think of at the moment."

Alfred released a sigh. This is going to be a long day.

* * *

**oh hey look an update**

**as usual reviews are appreciated**


End file.
